


Black Camellia

by Luvie3



Category: Naruto
Genre: Action/Adventure, Justice, Moral Dilemmas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-02-22 11:12:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13165725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luvie3/pseuds/Luvie3
Summary: "Shinobi Rule #45: A Shinobi must be willing to sacrifice for the greater good."Young Orihime Hatake is the pride of her father, Kakashi Hatake, and the village of Konohagakure. Considered a prodigy and coveted for her maternal bloodline, Orihime enters the ninja world with the eagerness to pull out of the shadow of her legendary mother, who disappeared four years after her birth. But she soon learns that being a ninja takes more than just talent; it requires the sharp, harsh mindsets of her teammates, which is something she's not sure she can adapt to. Enter: a tender child who believes people are good, a genius with dark ambitions, and a loner disgraced by his failures. It's up to them who they become.





	1. Flights of Angels

**…**

**PART 1:** Heaven

Chapter 1: Flights of Angels

**…**

_ Tap, tap, tap. _

Sharp lights illuminate an already glaringly bright, white hallway.

_ Tap, tap, tap. _

Two young men are set up before a closed room, one standing and the other sitting on a plain white bench. A red sign peers down at them from above two heavy-looking doors, glowing with the word  _O_ _ perating _ . 

_ Tap, tap, tap _

“You know-” The tapping pauses briefly at the interruption. The speaker breaks under the pressure of his companion’s full attention. “...Nevermind.”

“What was it?”

“Nothing, really,” The young man chuckles apologetically, though it sounds mismatched with his robust, chesty laugh. His friend stares for a moment before going back to tapping his foot on the linoleum tiles of the hospital floor, looking intently at the closed doors. He sits down but occasionally will stand briskly to stretch his legs by pacing back and forth in front of the occupied room. When he returns the bench, his foot inevitably begins again a rhythmic tapping pattern on the floor. 

_ Tap, tap, tap. _

Impatient and nervous.

_ Tap, tap, tap. _

“Well-”

“Guy?” 

“Yes?”

“Don’t make me any tenser.” Guy scratches the back of his head, frowning. He’s not the most handsome man in the world- with a squashed nose, a bowl-cut, and bushy eyebrows- but his eyes sparkle and so do his teeth, which would be his saving grace if it weren’t for the obnoxious green jumpsuit and orange leg warmers he dawns. Guy crosses his arms and tries to think of something calming to say to his friend, before seating himself on the bench. 

“Kakashi, I won’t bother you.” Kakashi looks at Guy out of the corner of his eye. Kakashi isn’t much stranger looking than Guy. His mouth, nose and a decent part of his cheeks are covered by a dark blue mask, and his right eye is shielded with a forehead protector. A portion of his silver hair falls messily over the _hen-tei_ , and occasionally, he’ll pull at it unconsciously. His left eye- the only part of his face showing- is sharply shaped and black, looking intensely about him as if in battle. But somehow, the way he carries himself makes him appear cool and suave. 

“That’s good.” He murmurs sarcastically.

“But…” Guy huffs. “It’s hard to think of something cool to say in this sort of situation.”

“You don’t say.” Kakashi deadpans. He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, tightly pressing his hands together. 

“But I’ll try anyway.” The green-wearing man ramps himself up. “How old are you?”

“...” Kakashi hangs his head, resigning himself to Guy’s comforts. “Eighteen.”

“How old is Asako?”

“Eighteen.”

Guy spreads his hands. 

“It’s not that weird.”

“It’s very weird.”

“Yeah, for civilians. We’re ninja. Shinobi are weird and have strange customs.” The silver-haired man attempts to glare at his friend but acknowledges to himself that Guy is not the type to recognize visually when he’s getting on someone’s nerves. 

“I’m not worried about our ages, Guy.”

“Ah,” Guy once more crosses his arms and nods his head, understanding. “So it’s the fear, huh? _Will I be good enough_? And _what if I fail her_? Well, don’t fear Kakashi, my rival. I know that you can overcome any obstacle in your way.”

“Really, Guy…”

“Oh, I was wrong again?” The bowl-cut wearing man energizes, growing passionate in his efforts. “Okay, so, it’s because you two are unmarried. No one cares about that! All our friends support you-”

“Guy.” The babbling finally stops. Kakashi straightens, his back cracking unintentionally. “I’m worried because we aren’t married, I’m nervous because we’re young, I’m scared that I’ll be a shit dad. All three are correct. No need to analyze.”

They stare again at that red word: _O_ _ perating _ . 

It should say:  _ Delivery in Progress _ . 

Guy does not know what to do. He wants to help Kakashi by saying something empathetic and insightful about human nature, but he cannot. There is no real moral lesson here, or at least, not one he understands. He truly believes what he said: there is nothing unnatural about the situation. Maybe this is the wrong time to bringing a new life into the world, when all of them are still working out what they want for themselves. But that does not mean it is something that should be treated with shame.

Guy straightens. There is no time to be pitying their situations.

“Marriage is…I don’t know a lot about marriage, but you and she have love, so that’s fixed right there.” Kakashi stares at him sideways. “And as for your ages, you’d have to be deaf not to have heard about ninja having children young to raise the body counts of their clans. Asako is the last of the Ueda, so it’s only natural she’d start having kids now. And…You’ll be a fine dad. You excel at everything- as expected of my rival.”

Kakashi sighs out a long breath. 

“You think so?”

Guy laughs loudly. 

“Of course!” 

Perhaps Kakashi smiles, but Guy can’t tell. It’s not the root of the problem, but it works for at least a little while to calm the expectant father down. One agonizing hour later, the red sign blinks off. The walls grow even more illuminated for Kakashi. He watches the doors intensely, analyzing every crack and bump and scratch. He listens for sounds, echoes, scraps of conversation between hushed doctors. 

And after an eternity, the doors spread apart, a nurse steps forward, and Kakashi Hatake hears a baby crying. 

…

_ We are not perfect. But we can try. _

…


	2. 8 Years Later

 

**…**

**PART 1:**  Heaven

Chapter 2: 8 Years Later

**…**

The air is still.

Sitting alone in an empty classroom, a little girl bites the inside of her cheek and studies her surroundings. She can feel the remnants of fellow children's energy, left by drawings carved slyly into the long tables and a lone pack of crayons resting on the windowpane beside her. She reaches out for the crayons, before retracting her hand with mild embarrassment. The owner may be mad if she borrows the colorful tools, after all. From the large windows, early morning sunlight streams in and paints every aspect of the room in pastel colors, so that even the shadows are a hazy grey. It is a moment of unnerving peace for the young student, an infinity of waiting in pure silence.

The sliding door opens suddenly, the sound setting her on edge. She crams her hands between her knees for comfort as a man with light brown hair and gentle-looking eyes enters, fiddling with papers. When he looks up and sees her, he smiles soothingly. He looks just the type to be in charge of children: broad-shouldered and plain looking, but with a kind smile and brotherly aura that younglings often take to. She wonders what he thinks of her, a small girl sitting at a big desk, wearing a pink polka-dotted shirt. She knows she shouldn't have worn the pink polka-dotted shirt.

"Orihime Hatake?" The instructor asks, moving towards the table where she sits. The girl nods. "Hello. My name is Iruka Umino."

"Nice to meet you." Orihime scoots forward.

"Do you know why you are here today?"

Orihime pauses. It's odd that Iruka would ask her that, as if she weren't sure. She's been wishing to be here since she started attending the Academy two years ago, chasing day dreams of praise and elevation like all children do. Of course, unlike most children, her dreams consisted of slicing through targets with fancy knives and summoning great beasts to fight alongside.

"My teachers suggested it because I've shown enough skill to be placed in a higher grade."

"Exactly. We were impressed to see you perform the clone jutsu at your age." Iruka smiles at her, shuffling through his papers again and placing a five-page packet face-down on the desk in front of her. He turns and obtains a seat from the corner of the room. Once he's seated in front of her desk, he begins asking her questions.

"Are you worried about this?"

"What do you mean?"

Iruka folds his hands in his lap and leans forward.

"Well, if all goes well, you will be placed in a higher grade, which is pretty nerve wrecking. And if all goes  _great_ , you could graduate early, which is also pretty nerve wrecking." He holds her gaze steadily, his smile considerate. "You're a talented kid. If we were in wartime right now, you'd be promoted without consideration of your feelings. But we aren't, so you do have a choice."

"Oh." Orihime considers it. True to Iruka's words, no one had asked her how she felt. In fairness she hadn't given her much reason to question her stance on the matter; she had preformed well in all her classes and never denied her own ambitions. But once she finally achieved her far-off goal, there were doubts in her heart that were difficult to address. She felt like her insecurities were betrayals to the way she was acting, and though her father gave her opportunities to, she couldn't speak out about the new fears plaguing her. "Well...Honestly, I do think it'll be scary. But I don't think that I should let my work go to waste."

"Okay," Iruka straightens up, accepting of her answer. "Do you have a lot of friends?"

"...Yes."

"Do you know any students in the graduating class?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

"The Naras. I know Shikamaru and Seiyuri. And, I guess, Sasuke Uchiha." It occurs to her he meant  _'know'_  as in  _'are friends with'_. She isn't sure how to clarify herself and he moves on before she can. She justifies herself by blaming her nervousness, since she has a history of becoming jumpy whenever there are butterflies in her stomach. Besides, it's not like she hasn't had friendly interactions with those listed.

_But I haven't talked to Sasuke since I was three…_

"Who do you live with?"

"My dad, Kakashi."

"I've heard he's a very great shinobi."

"Thank you. I'll tell him you said that."

"Ah, no need." Iruka chuckles. He pauses and appraises her, before firmly nodding. "You're a very polite girl."

Orihime tucks stray hair behind her ear and says 'thank you' again.

"Well, how about we start the test, hm?" Iruka produces a pencil and flips over the packet he placed had placed down earlier. Then he stands up and moves to the podium at the front of the room. "I'll be over here grading papers if you need anything."

Orihime nods and takes a deep breath. The packet was filled with questions: math, science, language. Not to mention questions about genjutsu, taijutsu, ninjutsu, hand signs. Some questions were relatively simple to her:  _If the target (x) is placed 15 yards away from your position (y) and is moving towards point (z) 12 yards to the right, what is the length of the shortest distance to intercept?_  It was the type of question she went over with her father a few mornings previous. She had spread the textbook flat down with both hands and eagerly scanned the pages, while Kakashi sat across from her and sipped his coffee tiredly, awoken a full hour earlier than necessary.

 _"I like these types of questions,"_  She told him, smiling. He yawned, but nodded at her words, a sign of his attention.

 _"If you like them, then I'm sure you're good at them._ _Why not take a break? We can go for a walk."_

 _"To the training grounds?"_  She clapped together her hands eagerly. _"Will you teach me Kawarimi no Jutsu, Daddy? I mean, I know it, but I wanna do it the way you do!"_

 _"I was thinking of the park,"_  Kakashi chuckled. _"Don't push yourself too much."_

She had promised him she wouldn't, and she wasn't lying, but answering the questions now she feels silly for forcing her father to go over an excessive number of problems with her as if he were her personal tutor. But to be fair, he's never complained about helping her. She smiles at the memory. Thinking of fond memories always manages to calm her down, especially when she becomes overwhelmed. Of course, she needs to remember not to get too stuck in the details of those memories; a false step and she'll be stuck in them, pleasantly day dreaming while time ticks by speedily.

_Question 39: Write Shinobi Rule #45 in the space provided below._

She pauses, whirling the pencil around in her fingers. She wishes that the Shinobi rules weren't all numbered like that, so plainly. She closes her eyes. Rule #44 is  _a shinobi must never betray a comrade's position_  and Rule #46 is  _a shinobi should always be moving forward_ , so Rule #45 must be...

 _"Shinobi Rule #45,"_ Kakashi's deep, soothing voice resonates in her head. They sat together on the coach in their living room, her head on his knee. Kakashi's hands held a brown book with a gold-painted spine. He raised an eyebrow at her. _"Are you sure you don't wanna read this yourself?"_

 _"Daddy,"_  She insisted, staring up at him.

_"I remember when you used to ask me to read you actual bedtime stories. With princesses and dragons- remember the one about the dragon princess?"_

She didn't respond, holding onto her insistent expression. Kakashi shrugged.

 _"Tough crowd._ _Okay._ _Shinobi Rule #45,"_  He stroked her hair.  _"A Shinobi must be willing to sacrifice for-"_

Her pencil finishes his sentence, a smile tugging onto her lips.

_The greater good._

**…**

When she finishes about an hour later, Iruka is still quietly writing away on tests and assignments. She hands in her work and awkwardly stands beside him as he grades it, telling herself not to look at whether he is leaving behind red checks or Xs. He grins at her.

_He is good at making people feel comfortable._

"Come with me, Orihime."

After going down the twisting hallways and stairwells of the Academy, Iruka shows her the building's training grounds. Circular targets are lined up near the woods beside the building and dummies are put up for taijutsu practice in a dirt lot near them. A track sits laid out in chalk in an open area, waiting for use. Orihime has been here before many times. Since she entered the Academy when she was six, she's been running nonstop on that track, practicing on these dummies and targets- not to mention asking for instruction and advice from both her father and Uncle Guy. Two years later, her hard work seems to be paying off.

_As long as I haven't screwed up already._

Her mind goes back to a particularly hard math question which she had, admittedly, half-guessed on. She hopes the answer was 9.43 seconds.

"Now, I've seen your taijutsu scores from your teachers," Iruka hands her a set of kunai, "They're quite good. But a physical assessment is needed for the exam."

Orihime smiles shyly, understanding. Iruka steps back to allow her to begin.

She tests the weight of the six blades in her palms, the thinly wrapped handles doing little to keep her from feeling the cold metal. Just like all kunai, they're light and sharp. Three in one hand, three in the other. She can do this.

_Just as practiced._

The first time she held a kunai, her father pressed it firmly into her grasp and refused to let go of her hand, squeezing it while showing her how to throw so she wouldn't cut herself. Or maybe it was her mother. Only, she would've had to be really young for it to have been her.

 _"Picture what shape you want to make,"_ Her father, or her mother, whispers.  _"Feel the chakra in your hands- it's there. It's will feel uncomfortable at first, like a sting, because you're building it up. But when you release it, something great will happen."_

She breathes in, out, and begins to throw.

_Thunk-thunk, thunk, thu-thu-thunk._

The six ninja tools all land within half-seconds of each other in the shape of a star. Five outer points and one smack dab in the middle, hit directly on the bulls-eye. Orihime studies the distance between each kunai- is it even and symmetrical? Does Iruka know what she was attempting to outline with only six kunai? She feels the need to ask for more so she can realize her inner-eye's masterpiece, but when she turns to Iruka, she finds him grinning widely down at her.

"Well done! This time I'll give you a few more; can you make a diamond?"

She had always considered diamonds to be easier to throw than stars, since they had straighter lines. But she's not there to argue that case and slowly holds out her hands to receive more of the ninja tool.

"Sure."

**…**

"Remember when we were kids?"

"I've blocked it out."

"Ha."

Near the Academy grounds, two people stand atop a tall building parallel to the school. One is an average-sized man wearing a green flak jacket and a forehead protector as a bandana. He has no real discernible traits, aside from slightly longer than average hair and dark bags under his eyes. His companion, meanwhile, possesses more defining qualities. The other is a tall woman with long purple hair and red-painted lips. Her eyes, though dark, are highlighted with long, black lashes. On their backs, both carry sheathed swords.

"Hayate, explain  _again_  why we are babysitting?" The woman asks with crossed arms.

"I wouldn't have to say it twice if you'd listen the first time," Hayate begins to smile, but is interrupted by a brief cough. "It's Orihime Hatake."

"Ah," The woman reforms her tone instantly, sounding much warmer. "Kakashi's girl? Why didn't you say so sooner?"

"It wouldn't have changed a lot, Yugao."

"It explains why the council wanted our opinions on her progress," Yugao responds. She whistles. "Pink polka-dots. Bold."

"When we were kids I'm pretty sure you wore a bright red shirt with 'lover' written on it."

"Never tell anyone about that," She glares at him, before once again watching Orihime below. "Look at that girl. Impressive kunai-handling."

"She's eight."

" _Eight_?"

"Eight."

"Well, I thought she was short," Yugao taps her chin. "But that just makes her more impressive. Kakashi made Chunin very young. It runs in the blood."

"Uh huh."

"...What?"

"Do you think the council would make a fuss if it was just about Kakashi?"

"He's one of the top ninjas in the village." Yugao points out. The swordsman raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but let's face it: it's not as though powerful ninja always breed powerful children."

For a moment, there is silence. Yugao reaches out and grasps the forbidden fruit of the conversation with just one name.

"Asako?"

Hayate confirms it with a small yet grave nod.

"No other reason they'd be so interested in a ninja's progeny."

They are quiet. Orihime, below, switches from kunai to shuriken and displays matching natural grace with the weapon.

"It's been eight years since they left the anbu to raise their brat."

"And four since she-." Hayate turns to Yugao, considering how to finish the sentence. He struggles between the choice of  _disappeared_  and- "Disappeared."

(He is not the type of man to choose the optimistic choice, but sometimes it's easier.)

Yugao kneels down, looking more intently at the child.

"They hope her blood lives on in that girl."

"Ueda blood." The swordsman sniffs. "Lord Hokage is not the type to measure a child up against her predecessor, but the rest of the council aren't so unbiased."

"With the number of extinct clans in this village…" Yugao shakes her head. "Well, the girl seems talented. Do you think she has the guts?"

"Maybe, maybe not. We'll soon know." Hayate sighs. "Because luckily for the council,"

Orihime sinks yet another blade into the bulls-eye. For as gentle as her features look, they turn as sharp as the knives in her hands once locked on the target. It really does remind Hayate of his childhood, of the day an older girl named Ueda arrived at the Academy with death and war in her eyes. He can't decide whether or not to smile.

"Power runs through that brat's blood."


End file.
